I Never Told You What I Did For A Living
by The Real Damien Thorn
Summary: It's better off this way, so much better off this way, I can't clean the blood from the sheets on my bed. Stagory, Death fic


_**"And we'll love again**_

 _ **We'll laugh again**_

 _ **We'll cry again**_

 _ **And we'll dance again**_

 _ **And it's better off this way**_

 _ **So much better off this way**_

 _ **I can't clean the blood off the sheets in my bed"**_

 **I Never Told You What I Did for A Living**

 **-My Chemical Romance**

 **xxx**

Gregory and Stan's realtionship didn't run very deep. There were too many secrets on both ends, and it was hard for them to trust each other. However, they got along alright and were both good in bed, so neither saw any reason to stop.

However, Gregory was a little uneasy about Stan knowing about his mercenary work. If they ever were to split up, the raven could easily rat him out. It would be a life-time in jail for Gregory, if his enemies didn't get to him first. This worried him, especially since Stan had been in a strange mood lately. He'd been lashing out more frequently, almost like he was daring the blonde to break up with him. Gregory figured he was just stressed about their relationship - it had to remain secret.

If Stan's parents found out, well, it wouldn't be pretty. While they weren't exactly homophobic, they didn't exactly want a gay son. Stan wouldn't put it past his dad to disown him.

So they both had something at risk. This shared fear of the other kept them in the relationship, however draining it was. Gregory figured he had _much_ more to lose than Stan. He had his life ahead of him, and he'd be damned if that blue-eyed jock was going to ruin it. Prison was not somewhere he saw himself in the next ten years.

But seeing as Stan was acting so strange, the blonde decided to be careful around him.

"I'll be in the study," he told his lover, who was sitting on the couch, watching television.

"Kay."

 _Don't be suspicious of my activity_ , Gregory silently prayed. He entered the small room he designated as the study and locked the door.

It was time to plan Stan's death.

He didn't really want to do it - they _had_ had some good times together - but he had too much at stake to let Stan out of this relationship alive. He hoped that the raven wouldn't be suspicious - Christophe had always been wary of Gregory, and the blonde did not want a repeat of last time.

After a few hours in the room, he was satisfied. He felt a lot more comfortable, knowing he had an escape if his boyfriend decided to jump the gun.

There was a knock at the door.

"Gregory? You coming to bed?" How how cute. Playing Mr. Nice now.

"In a minute," he answered, grabbing his gun and sliding it into the back of his pants. "Get ready for me."

Stan left the door, and Gregory could hear him walk down the hall and fall onto the bed. "I'm ready."

The blonde rolled his eyes. Of course Stan would make him do all the work. "At least undress yourself, I'm not your mother."

"Why would my mom be undressing me, you sick bastard?"

Gregory sighed, dropping his head onto the desk. "You know what I meant. Don't be difficult..." _Maybe killing him won't be as hard as I thought._

He shook the thought from head and stood. He exited the room, locking it behind him again for whatever reason. He found Stan waiting impatiently for him. "Alright, I'm naked, _mother_."

Gregory grit his teeth, taking a deep breath. He was too tired to play these games. He had half a mind to just go to sleep, but the other half telling him he wanted sex was stronger. He sat down on the bed next to Stan, using a distracting kiss as cover as he pulled the gun from his pants. He pushed Stan back onto the bed and knelt down to untie his shoes, pushing the gun under the bed for now. He sat back up, smirking at his own cleverness, and turned to Stan. "Alright, since it appears you're too tired to do anything strenuous, I think I'll top tonight."

He had fallen asleep. He had been too exhausted to reach for his gun, and now Stan was staring at it. He didn't look that surprised, just angry. "So, you were just planning on killing me afterwards, huh?"

"Stanley, you _know_ that's not it," Gregory said, rolling his eyes. He was a very good liar when he needed to be. "I've been worried about that last threat message we got the other day. I'm only being cautious. Now leave it alone."

Stan seemed to believe him, but didn't talk to him the rest of the morning.

Or the rest of the day, for that matter. It was only when Gregory had gotten back from the store that evening that the raven-haired boy spoke. "Why's the study locked?"

"Hmm?"

"The study. You never lock it," Stan said. "Why's it locked? What are you hiding from me?"

"Stan, you're being paranoid," Gregory said, putting away groceries. "It almost sounds like _you_ are the one hiding something."

"I'm just wondering why, after years of leaving the door wide open, you suddenly decide to keep me out of there."

"I'm not 'keeping you out of there', you imbecile," Gregory strained, his nerves wearing thin. "I'm just being cautious about the threat letter. If someone _does_ come into the house, I just don't want them to be able to go through all the files."

"I want to break up."

It was so sudden, yet Gregory didn't even flinch. "You're being unreasonable."

"No, I'm being _cautious_ ," Stan said, using the last word with scorn. "I think you want to kill me."

"Stanley-"

"Don't even deny it, Gregory," Stan spat. "I've seen the way you spend so much time just sitting there, _thinking_. And I'm pretty sure you're not over there pondering the meaning of life."

"Stan, are you even listening to yourself?" Gregory asked, his voice calm. "You're speaking like a madman."

"Says the murderer."

"You know I've never killed anyone."

"You've _said_ that you've never killed anyone," Stan battled. He was slowing backing away from the blonde, heading for the door. "Even right now, you're thinking about how fast you can pull your gun from its holster."

"Don't be ridiculous," Gregory said, almost laughing. "Come over here so we can talk this out."

"You mean so you can get a better shot." Stan had reached the door, and grabbed the handle.

" _Get the hell away from the door_."

The command startled both Stan _and_ Gregory. The blonde coughed, clearing his throat, and crossed his arms.

"Come here, Stan."

"No."

"Come _here_ , Stanley."

"Just let me go." There was a hint of desperation in Stan's voice, and Gregory sighed.

"How did it come to this, Stanley? Why didn't you just keep your mouth shut?"

Stan's eyes widened as the Brit pulled the gun out. "Gregory..."

"Get away from the door."

The blue-eyed boy held his hands up; the pose made Gregory laugh.

"That's a good start, dear. But I meant all the way." Stan gave him a frightened glare before edging away from his only exit.

"Just let me go," Stan repeated, and the desperation was evident in his voice. "If you think I'm going to tell anyone about what you do, you're wrong. For all I know, you just sit at a desk and do paper work."

"Hmm, what happened to the whole 'You're a murderer' story you were so sure of? Sorry, Stanley, but it just doesn't add up." Gregory smirked. "What was it you discovered this morning? That I was just going to kill you after making love?"

"Gregory, please-"

"You were right, then, Stanley. I _was_ going to kill you," Gregory paused. "You just wore me out, like you always do. If you were clever you would have killed me this morning. But that ship has sailed. However, I'll let you live out your little fantasy. Go to the bedroom."

Stan nearly fainted. "Gregory, stop. You don't have to do this. I don't want to break up anymore."

"Liar." Gregory marched toward the raven, pressing him up against the wall. He pushed the gun under Stan's ribs. "How easy it would be to watch you try to breathe with a bullet in your lungs."

Stan groaned at the painful pressure, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Bedroom."

He backed off and allowed Stan to move past him. He looked back at the blonde every couple of seconds as he walked down the hall to their room.

"Don't get any ideas, Stanley. I wouldn't want to have to scrub your blood out of the carpet." They entered the bedroom. "You're a lot more obediant than Christophe was, I'll give you that. He fought all the way to his death."

"Gregory-"

"Shh. We're going to take a little nap." He motioned for Stan to get onto the bed, and the raven looked down, a few sobs escaping him. "Oh, now don't cry, darling." Gregory hated seeing his lover cry; it didn't matter that they'd just broken up.

"Don't call me that." Stan's voice was shaking.

"I think I can call you whatever I please," Gregory said, though there was no malice in his voice. "You're not the one with the gun." How he could say this so gently even surprised himself. "Lie down."

Stan ran a hand across his face before sitting back on the bed, looking away from the Brit.

"That's good, so much better than last night. Lie down."

The charcoal-haired lover threw himself back, hiding his face in his hands and curling up. Gregory smiled at his trembling form before easing himself onto the bed, gripping his weapon tightly. He reached out and rested his hand on Stan's shoulder. The other flinched and cried out a little, but did nothing else. Gregory pulled him close, wrapping him in a hug.

"I'll make it painless." Stan whimpered. "And quick. Just close your eyes and it'll all be over soon." He pressed the gun to the back of his lover's head, making Stan move closer to him. "It's better off this way."

 **xxx**

 **"Never again, never again, they gave us two shots to the back of the head, and we're all dead now."**


End file.
